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A/N: Sorry for all the supernatural one-shots (not really). I'm just super into that show right nowXD
This one-shot is based on that episode with the first zombie.

A/N: So, I rewrote this a bit, changed the ending. I hope I made it more to Dean's character. Let me know what you think please!

You race through the trees, trying hard to make it. You glance over your shoulder. He's close behind you, faster than you expected. His eyes glint in the dark, causing fear to spike through you. You push harder. You have to make it to the graveyard where Dean and Sam are waiting for you. You are almost there- you break through the trees and you can see the gravestones ahead. Only a few more yards. You can see Dean's flashlight in the distance, mostly hidden from sight. Just enough to guide you.
You skirt a grave, stumbling when you hit loose dirt. It's just enough. The zombie reaches for you, scrapping his fingers down your back, tearing through the fabric of your thin jacket and shirt. You let out a pained scream, almost falling to the ground. You hear Dean and Sam yell your name. Somehow, you push yourself up and keep going, the zombie mere inches behind you. You run to the open grave, weaving to the side just in time, like Dean instructed you to do. The zombie reaches the edge and falls in before he can right himself. Dean jumps in after the guy and slams a metal rod into the zombie's chest. The zombie spasms and lets out a horrible groan, piercing through you to the core. Dean closes the coffin and you watch as Sam and Dean nail it shut. You fall to your knees, panting heavily. Thank goodness that's over with. You lift yourself up and grab a shovel, ignoring the stabs of pain in your back. You help Sam and Dean shovel the dirt back onto the coffin. It hardly takes anytime with all three of you.
Dean grabs the bags and you help Sam carry the shovels back to the car. Once everything is placed in the trunk, you slide into the backseat, moaning. You wipe your hand over your face, which is covered in dirt. Dean starts the car, glancing back at you.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
You nod. "I just got a little scraped up."
"We'll fix you up when we get to the motel," Dean assures, pulling out onto the road. You nod even though he can't see and rest your head against the seat. It isn't long before you reach the motel. You sigh, grateful to be 'home'. You crawl out of the car, following Dean and Sam to the motel door. Sam glances at you and Dean. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starved. I can go get something to eat," he offers.
Dean nods. "Sounds great." He tosses his keys to Sam, pulling out the motel key from his pocket.
"Be careful, Sam," you call after him. It's a habit you developed, always telling Sam or Dean to be careful before they go somewhere. For some reason, it makes you feel a little better. Sam flashes you a smile, before pulling out of the parking lot and driving away. Dean pushes the motel room door open, walking in and turning on the lights. You are right behind him, wincing as you start to pull of your jacket. It seems you bled more than you thought. The fabric stuck to your cuts. Dean notices and glances over at you in concern. He walks over to you and turns you around.
"(y/n), these are bad! I thought you said you were okay," Dean admonishes.
"I thought I was," you moan as you manage to get your jacket off. Dean sighs.
"Sit on the bed," he says. You do as he says. "Take off your shirt, I'll go get the medicine." He walks to the bathroom and you manage to peel off your shirt, grabbing a pillow to cover your chest. You have a bra on, but still. You have a crush on Dean and really don't want anything embarrassing to ensue. Dean comes back in and tosses the medicine on the bed, sitting down behind you. He gets out the ointment and hydrogen peroxide. He reaches up and carefully unhooks your bra. You wince, clutching the pillow tighter.
"Sorry," he mumbles. You're all to aware of his hands along your back, his breath landing on your neck. You press your chin into the pillow. "This is gonna hurt," Dean warns, pouring some hydrogen peroxide on a towel. You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the pain. Dean very gently cleans your wounds and somehow you manage not to make a sound. Dean runs his fingers along your back, between the scratches. You shiver at his touch. "Zombie really did a number on ya," he murmurs.
You nod, not really knowing what to say. Dean's proximity kinda leaves you speechless. This moment seems heavy, like more than a regular patch up. Dean spreads the ointment along your scratches, seemingly taking his time. He finishes it up, taping gauze over the worst of the cuts.
"All set," he says, hooking your bra back together. "You sure you don't need anything else checked out?"
You turn your head to look at him, still holding the pillow close. He winks at you, smirking. You roll your eyes. "No, I'm good, Dean."
He grins, grabbing the leftover medicine and standing up from the bed. He heads to put it away and you slip a new t-shirt on, careful not to tear your bandages. When Dean comes back he's rubbing his hands with a towel, staring at them intently. You know that look.
"What's wrong, Dean?" you ask.
"Nothing, uh, just, it could have been a lot worse than scratches," he says, glancing up at you.
"Dean, I'm fine."
"I know. It's just, me and Sammy didn't get hurt. I should have been the bait-"
"Dean," you cut him off, "I had to be the bait. The creepy dude was going after girls."
Dean sighs heavily, tossing the towel into the bathroom and leaning against the doorframe. He shoves his hands into his pockets, staying quiet for several seconds. "I just....I don't know what I'd do if, you know. If something happened to you," he looks up at you at this.
He looks at you intently, as if trying to convey a message. You furrow your brow.
"I'm not sure I understand," you finally say.
Dean pushes off the doorframe, moving to stand in front of you. "I'm saying...."
A knock sounds on the door and you jump. Dean clears his throat and moves to open the door, revealing Sam holding up fast food bags.
You take them gratefully, placing them on the motel table. You hand Sam his salad, thanking him. Then you hand Dean his burger, avoiding eye contact. He takes it quietly, mumbling a thanks. Sam finishes his salad quickly, tossing the rest into the garbage.
"Well, I feel gross. I'm gonna take a shower," Sam informs you. "Anyone need to use the bathroom? I plan on taking awhile."
You and Dean shake your heads, keeping your eyes on your food. Sam frowns, noticing the tension. He shrugs though, grabbing his stuff and closing the bathroom door behind him. Soon the shower is going and Dean clears his throat again.
You stand up, offering to take his trash. He hands it to you, walking over to the couch and pulling out the bed. He grabs an extra blanket and pillow and tosses it on the bed. He removes his shirt and you look away awkwardly. You turn off the lights, leaving a small one on for Sam.
You hesitate, glancing up at Dean again. "Dean...."
"Yeah?"
Your eyes meet and for one second nothing happens. Then Dean is across the room kissing you. It's not a sweet kiss of feelings finally admitted. It's a fervent kiss, deep and rough, of feelings long repressed. You jump and Dean catches you, holding your thighs so you can wrap your legs around his waist. He moves his hands a little higher up your thighs and you gasp a little in surprise. You wrap your hands behind Dean's neck, pushing closer. He backs up, hitting the edge of the bed and plopping down, you still straddling him. His hands move up your sides, gripping your waist. Eventually, you break apart, breathing hard.
"Sam-" you say, breathlessly.
"I know," Dean nods, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he catches his breath.
Then Dean starts laughing, lifting his head to look at you. You laugh too, feeling like teenagers doing something they aren't supposed to.
"So, what happens now?" you ask, searching Dean's eyes.
Dean grins. "Now....Sam is just gonna have to take a longer shower."